


Little, lost, and forgotten

by AceEntrope_y



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Currently under quarantine so I might as well write fanfiction, it suddenly hit me that this would have been a fantastic canon divergence, so I wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23202724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceEntrope_y/pseuds/AceEntrope_y
Summary: There was a young girl, crying on Jaskier’s doorstep.It was the matter of how much of a gentleman he was that made him offer his home for the night, rather than go back to bed to battle his hangover.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	Little, lost, and forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what this is, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Shout out to DustedSun for drop kicking me into this fandom.
> 
> How could you do this to me, I thought we were friends.

There was a young girl crying on Jaskier’s doorstep. 

He blinked a few times, and yes, she was still there. Both not a ghost nor a hallucination from his hangover.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, not knowing if he should first go alleviate his pounding headache or tend to the young girl still sobbing pitifully.

Technically, the girl could wait a few extra minutes, while his headache was getting worse by the minute. Jaskier began towards his bedroom, where he was sure he had a bucket filled with cold water he could dunk his head in, but quickly changed directions when he heard the loud and rambunctious laughter of the late night or early morning drunkards.

“Nope, nope, nope,” He announced, flinging his door open and startling the poor girl off of the doorstep. “This simply will not do! In you go.” He gestured to his open doorway with a flourish of his hand. The girl still seemed skeptical. “Oh come on, I promise not to eat you.” This didn’t seem to deter the little girl from staying on the filthy road outside, rather the opposite in fact. 

The sounds of the rowdy drunkards were steadily getting louder. “Listen, those drunkards are coming around the corner quickly, and if they find you on the ground like that- you  _ are _ old enough to know what will happen to you, yes?” The girl nodded fearfully. “Worse will happen. I swear on the law of surprise I won’t touch or harm you in any way. Will that help?”

It did help, as the young girl finally got off the dirty road and scrambled up the steps into his house. Jaskier swung the door shut right before the town bullies spotted them. 

Jaskier let out a breath. “Phew! That was a close one!”

The young girl was the farthest distance possible from him in the small room. Understandable. War had just broken out, who knew what she’d seen.

“Are you hungry?” Jaskier asked, not liking the awkward silence that had settled between them. She blinked at him. 

“W-what?” she croaked.

Jaskier took a step forward, then froze when he saw how she’d flinched. He took a much slower step, raising his hands, palm up, to show that he meant her no harm.

“I have some bread, if you’d like it. I just, well, your cloak is rather dirty, which implies a lot of travel, and you’re all alone-” Another flinch at that particular word, touchy subject then,  _ ah yes Jaskier, just trample all over the poor girl’s traumas, shut up shut up _ “-So you’ve probably been without food or sometime, just- here.” He’d reached the loaf of bread in his satchel and set it onto the small table, before backing into the corner he’d previously been in.

She stared at him for a few minutes, her blue eyes laser focused on him before hunger won out and she sat down at the table to tear into the bread.

Jaskier slid down against the wall to watch his new guest from the floor. As she ate, he was able to get a better look at her.

Although she was partially filthy from travel, her cloak seemed to be made of a good quality material, and as he continued watching her, more pieces fell into place. The perfect posture, even as she ate, the silken blonde hair that shone through the mud, the fancy dress underneath her coak, partially torn and wrecked after so many days of desperate travel.

“You’re nobility…” Jaskier breathed. The blonde girl slowed her chewing to look at him. “You’re from a royal court, aren’t you?” She nodded, her face filled with slight suspicion. “Oh that’s no good, I’m in trouble with all the royal courts.’ At her panicked look, he hurried to explain.

“Only romantically! Only romantically!” She calmed slightly, still looking at him expectantly to explain. “I may or may not have flirted with too many noblewomen.” He admitted sheepishly.

The girl looked him over, then nodded self-assuredly to herself, as though something about his look had convinced her of a such a thing from the start. “Hey.” He protested half-heartedly. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he smiled.

Jaskier stood up, and when she didn’t flinch away at the motion, went to sit across from her at the rickety table.

“So, nobleman’s-child-from-a-court-I’m-probably-in-trouble-with,” He paused, hearing the girl’s giggles at her new title. “What’s your name?”

The girl paused, thinking carefully before she answered. “Ciri.”

“Just Ciri?”

She nodded, not offering any other information about her identity.

“Alright then. And, where are you from? Did you maybe get lost on the way to somewhere?”

Ciri’s face was tinged with sadness as she answered quietly. “Cintra.”

Jaskier whistled. He’d heard of Cintra’s collapse as soon as everyone else in the town had. “I’m sorry….” He trailed off, not knowing what to apologize for specifically. “Well, at least you’re alive.” He finished, changing tactics. “Do you know if anyone from your family is alive?”

She shook her head. “Grandmother died on the night of the siege.” Her voice sounded dead at the statement, as though it had taken some time to finally come to terms with it. Jaskier winced, seeing how he’d stepped right into another traumatic topic, but pushed on anyways. “What was your grandmother’s name? Maybe you have some distant cousins you can stay with.” 

“Her name was Calanthe Fiona Riannon of Cintra.” Came the quiet reply.

Jaskier’s heart stopped. “Oh.” He squeaked.

It all clicked into place.

There was another round of awkward silence, but Jaskier barely noticed it this time, his mind instead stumbling to catch up with what had just been revealed.

“Well…” He finally started. “Did your grandmother leave any final instructions for you? Where to go maybe?” The girl,  _ the princess of Cintra _ , nodded. “She told me to find Geralt of Rivia.”

Jaskier fell out of his chair and hit the ground hard. It did not help with his shock. 

“Oh, fate is testing me dearly…” He moaned. Ciri looked nervous at his statement. He flapped his hand at her. “Not you. Well, it is you, in a way…” He sighed and sat up to look her in the eye. 

“Geralt is my-” He cut himself off before he could finish the sentence with ‘ _ best friend _ ’, not knowing if it was true anymore. He tried to ignore the pang in his heart as he changed tracks. “Do you know the song, ‘toss a coin’?”

Ciri’s eyes lit up. “Yes! ‘ _ Toss a coin to your witcher’, _ ”

“ _ Oh valley ‘o plenty _ ,” Jaskier finished wistfully. “Well, I wrote that song about him. A bit of a mistake, in hindsight, but it made him famous.”

“Geralt is a witcher?” Ciri exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise.

Jaskier nodded. “Yeah, well, I knew him, so I can maybe take you to find him if you need-”

“Yes, please!” She exclaimed. “Fate  _ must _ have guided my feet to you, it’s destiny that you know him!”

_ ‘Or my bad luck’ _ , Jaskier thought to himself.

“But wait, you said you  _ knew _ him.” She asked, echoing his words. “What happened?”

He barely suppressed a flinch. “Ah, well, we fell out of touch.” He answered lamely, the final words the witcher had spoken to him ringing in his ears. 

_ “If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take  _ you _ off my hands! _ ”

The girl looked disappointed at this, so Jaskier hurried to reassure her. “But I’m sure we can find him for you.” She instantly cheered up again. 

This was going to badly hurt Jaskier, but war was on the brink of the horizon so it was really for the best that they left town anyways.

“We’ll set out looking for him in the morning.” Jaskier decided. He stood to go to bed and to fetch Ciri a blanket, when he paused, realizing he hadn’t asked her why she was trying to find Geralt.

“Say, why are you trying to find Geralt?”

She looked at him, surprised that he hadn’t heard her reason earlier.. “It was my grandmother’s dying wish.”

“Her last wish, huh?” Jaskier thought aloud. “And, just to clarify, your grandmother was Queen Calanthe of Cintra? Which makes your mother Princess Pavetta of Cintra?”

Ciri nodded again, looking surprised at how much the bard knew. “Yes. How do you know all of this?”

Jaskier looked out the window to the rising sun, then back at the young princess in front of him. He could afford to lose a few more hours of sleep.

He sat down at the table again.

“What do you know about the law of surprise?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
